


One Disaster Less

by theabbeygrange



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theabbeygrange/pseuds/theabbeygrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can't remember the last time she was warm. </p><p>Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly was to begin with.</p><p>Sometimes she knows that she wasn't.</p><p>Camlann changed everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Disaster Less

The sky was red. 

The sky was red like the sea of blood below it, like the tattered remnants of capes that were once bright, that billowed in the wind, that stood for strength, honour, and bravery. In a sea of red, those cloaks now covered the bodies of those who had fallen; were now a sign of loss, destruction, and pain. 

Camlann changed everything.

The air was thick with magic and smoke, smelled of copper and ash. It was heavy, so heavy, and they were drowning in it. She couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, numbed by the sight of so much death and defeat.

But when it was over, the sky was blue, the sun no longer in mourning, and it was warm. The air was light, gentle, and smelled of the gardens, fresh baked bread, and magic. It was no longer heavy. 

But she still carried the weight of it, felt heavy and cold (so cold). She lived in the light of torches and candles because the sun didn't shine for her. Not anymore. 

She had moved back into her small home, didn't mind the singed holes in the roof or the dust covering her kitchen. It reflects her new life, she thinks, now that she lives in the dusted remains of it, in the shadows of her father, Elyan, Morgana, and Lance. She had hoped that the gaping holes in the roof would welcome the sun, chase away those shadows and warm the numbness away. 

She can't remember the last time she was warm. 

Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly was to begin with.

Sometimes she knows that she wasn't.

Arthur had been the sun when the sun couldn't be, during the war. She had looked at him and he would smile, and the light of it would fall on her, make her melt, make her glow. She got heatstroke just looking at him.

But Camlann changed everything. 

The war had allowed her to be his warmth for a brief while. But after, when the grand pomp and circumstance of the political union of the lands was all but finished, they had learned to live with their ghosts and the shadows that stalked them. They carried on, red once again standing for strength, honour, and bravery. Hope too, she thinks. Safety. 

It was surprisingly easy to settle into their former roles in a bid for normalcy. Arthur remembered what it meant to be king, and she remembered what is was to be a commoner, to have dried and cracked hands from washing dishes, to have sore knees from cleaning the floor. It happened so easily that she hadn't even noticed. Not until one day, long after, when she looked at him and didn't recognise him anymore.

There had been a time when he had scalded her, made her sweat and beg for more, but now she felt her lungs beginning to freeze, ice encasing her heart. She felt numb all over and wanted to scream. 

So she screamed at him in the audience room and it echoed off of the walls, sounded angry and shrill to her own ears. She accused him of being cold, projected the ice she felt taking over her onto him, told him that he had changed. She told him that she felt nothing anymore, that it was his fault. She remembers the prince he had been, young and foolish, his recklessness mistaken for bravery. His pride and his passion, his capacity to love. But he no longer knows how to love, she says, and that's why she's so cold.

It was only later on she realised that the change she had grown to hate was what had allowed them to be what they were in the first place. 

Arthur had looked at her calmly, his gaze sharp, his eyes the colour of the frost that she felt beneath her skin. He had looked at her and said, "I love." He paused, and smiled. "I have love and I am loved in ways that you couldn't possibly understand because even I'm at a loss to explain it." He twists the ring on his finger that he had given to her once, a token, a promise. "I have love, Guinevere. Just not for you."

Camlann had changed everything. Just not for very long. 

And later, when she looks around at the dusty remains of her home, her life, she thinks that it's almost same as it was before. Before Morgana had come back, before the battle. The only thing that's changed is her. The way she can see things now, when she couldn't before. She can see that Arthur does love, only it belongs to pale skin, messy hair, and magic. He is the sun again.

Just not for her.


End file.
